Father Daughter Weekend
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Jocelyn, Lyndsey and Keiko were different. Different heritages, different shapes, different sizes, different college majors. But they were also similar. They were all seniors. They liked wearing their hair long. They liked math and numbers although they applied them differently in their individual career studies. And they looked forward to graduation and their leap into the world of business and its celebrated assortment of elite alpha males.
Not that they were totally unfamiliar with powerful men. The staff coach tutors had taught them well through the years. During junior and senior years, they had hosted a medley from the multitude of guest coach tutors that were assigned to enhance their poise. They had absorbed all the generous outpourings offered by those pillars of wisdom.
The trio had coalesced into a clique of sorts. Whenever a scenario dictated group variety, the Oceanic brunette, Nordic blonde and Dutch redhead were called upon to fulfill the motley request. The men might number one, two, three or more but the girls shared the load equally no matter what. The requests multiplied as word of the sensual tag team spread through the grapevine. Some were planned roster assignments; others were just a guest coach tutor's wish to confirm the rumors. No man complained about an encounter afterwards. The co-eds became fast friends and were fastidiously planning their ultimate poise evaluation assessment: Father-Daughter Weekend.
It was a capstone event. Their fathers had witnessed their matriculation at the freshman welcoming soiree where they had pledged to do their best to learn the beauty, intelligence and poise curriculum. Now almost four years later, their Daddies could verify the benefits of their substantial financial investment. It would also justify their many long hours of guest coach tutor service to the Total Woman Academy.
The three daughters connived the arrangements. It would be a three way round robin of pairings. Fate, the random roster and a few of the guest coach tutor encounters had gotten each co-ed intimately familiar with the two others' fathers. A sharing of particulars and details had each of the three well versed in the penchants of each man.
The eagerly anticipated Friday afternoon finally arrived and the trio of daughters waited anxiously at the poolside umbrella table for their trio of parents to appear. The long wait ended when the three casually dressed men exited the main building and, pausing briefly to scan the nubile flesh speckling the landscape. They feigned indifference as they ambled a slow beeline to the familiar group of young ladies in waiting. The bikini clad girls flashed welcoming smiles as they saw their weekend mates approach.
James hugged his daughter Jocelyn and they exchanged chaste cheek buzzes. Luke and Kurt echoed the move with their offspring: Lyndsey and Keiko. They sat around the table, nibbling on tapas and engaging in small talk.
The co-eds shared their pride at achieving graduation and thanked their parents for their support. Then they eyed each other with sly grins. Lyndsey cued the scene.
"It's gotten so warm this month. I'm feeling hot."
Together, the girls loosed their bikinis and laid the bright colored tops on the table. Then they waited.
James plucked curiously at the orange one. Keiko moved seductively and plopped her orange-bottomed ass in James's lap. Learning quickly, Luke grabbed Jocelyn's red one and Kurt was left with Lyndsey's yellow cups. The girls sidled into their laps and the men caught the mood, cupping and copping a feel of the color corresponding tits as they took playful kisses. The co-eds showed zero reluctance. The men took up their first weekend Daddy duties.
Brawny James cradled the petite little Keiko in his arms as he carried her back to his guest coach tutor suite. Kurt led Lyndsey hand-in-hand back to his suite. Luke pulled Jocelyn to the hot tub in the secluded corner of the pool area. The weekend was off to a rousing start.
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In the morning, the pool area double-functioned as the guest brunch space. Couples sporadically emerged in various states of dress and energy from their overnight toils. Some senior co-eds still wore bikini thongs; others just a translucent beach cover-up. The men had universally chosen terry cloth waist wraps. Easier to jettison when the moment required.
The mingling was subdued at first. Selected junior co-eds, heeled, mini-skirted and topless, of course, functioned as waitresses and bar tenders. There were no assigned matchups for the day and, with the rush of pent-up passions temporarily assuaged, a more relaxed atmosphere prevailed. The day was open for rest, relaxation, and recreation at their whims.
The gentlemen and senior co-eds renewed or initiated new acquaintances. As the mood strengthened, an amorous pair might cuddle together apart from the others. Any sign of modesty disappeared.
Soon the whole pool area was a sexual playground. The co-eds moved about, helping men mustering refraction to get ready for more. He might call one over, coaxing her to use her hands or mouth to get him restarted. He might fuck her, or another that had caught his eye while the first was rebuilding his verve. At any one time, there was always at least one co-ed giving a hand-job, a blowjob, a tit-job or getting fucked missionary or doggy. Moans, groans and little cries of elation filled the air. Couples peaked, rested, swapped partners and took up the game again.
The pace slowed as the sunshine hued into a sunset. The evening's festivities necessitated a cleanup and preening by all. The playmates sadly parted, temporarily they hoped, to their individual resident quarters. The debris of towels, loin cloths, and discarded bikinis was left for the juniors to tidy up.
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They assembled again after dinner in the house theater. The evening banquet had been waitressed by semi-dressed juniors who were re-purposed as cocktail attendants at this post-dinner festivity about to begin. The fathers wore formal tuxedoes; their senior co-ed daughters were dressed in elegant fashions: revealing dresses, bold makeup, fancy hairdos, glittering jewelry and sensuous perfumes. The junior co-ed attendants were even more scantily clad, adding spice to the sexy ambiance.
The audience floor held an array of oversized reclining loungers. Each was occupied by a father and his cuddling daughter. They lay at ease, sharing thoughts as the stage was set for the coming audience participation show.
"Did you find the day enjoyable, Daddy?" asked Lyndsey. Her fingers drew lazy lines on his chest, tracing the dress shirt pleats from bowtie to belt buckle and back again. He pecked her cheek before replying.
"Immensely, my dear."
She squiggled a pert all body spasm as his thumb rubbed lazy circles on her stretched top, circumnavigating her sensitized areola underneath.
She peered around to see her friends enjoying similar quality time with their Daddies. The low house lights dimmed to dark and Ms. Smith, the TWA Housemother, took center stage in the glow of an overhead spotlight.
"Welcome, Fathers and Daughters to the TWA Father Daughter Weekend. Our senior students have been very busy this semester planning and practicing for our most popular annual family event. That said, let's not delay any longer and get on with the Saturday Night Assisted Striptease Raffle!"
There was brisk applause aplenty but it died quickly so that the legendary acts could begin. Ms. Smith mixed each of the two bins containing the names of the co-eds and their fathers. She plucked a female name and read out 'Jocelyn'.
Jocelyn gave a triumphant clap and a parting smooch to her father and then scurried to ascend the stage. She wore a strap back, body hugging blue knit mini-dress. Her elegant display captured every man's attention with the hope that she would pick his name. Her hand plunged into the Daddy-names bin and retrieved a father's name; she handed it to Ms. Smith who read out 'Kurt'. Kurt gave a celebratory clap and kissed his sweet Keiko adieu. He bounded to the stage to claim his prize.
Ms. Smith and Jocelyn motioned for him to slow down his hurry; he gained his composure as he skidded to a stop, joining them at center stage. Ms. Smith stood aside as Jocelyn faced stage front. Kurt stood behind her and, after a bit of searching, found the dress catches. His fingers did the honors and loosened the fasteners. She wiggled the dress looser and let him assist its fall down her body.
Her breasts were near perfect orbs, freckled like her face and arms, capped with rosy crinkled nipples. Their glossed tone matched her lipstick. She smirked when she overheard the whispered compliments from the watching fathers to their daughter cuddle-mates.
"Wow... nice tits, huh... utterly suck-able, don't you think, honey... lucky dude up there."
As the low noise quieted down, Jocelyn leaned back and twisted her neck. Kurt took the proffered open mouth kiss as his hands reached around to cup her boobs. His fingers played with her nipples as her tongue played with his mouth. The background comments rose up again, even bawdier. But the stage performers couldn't wait for them to die down this time. She resumed her statuesque stance for the audience, hands at sides and high heels pressed together.
She felt rather than saw his hands sweep down her sides and push the clogged dress lower, over her hips, before gravity weighed it to the floor. Its absence revealed her hip-hugging teal panties. She kicked aside the pooled dress; her hip wiggles drew attention to the bright color molding her camel-toed pussy. One more detail to go and then she would lead Kurt to his suite for their fate-driven rendezvous.
Kurt's thumbs hooked the waistband of her panties. He playfully yanked it up, forcing a wedgie and a deeper camel-toe all in one. Briefly startled but playing along, she placed her hands on her hips, rocked them twice and looked back at him, smirking again, this time at his boyish humor. He grinned right back and squatted, dragging down the last garment she wore. She braced a hand back on his shoulder as she pranced out of the teal silk that was hobbling her ankles.
Kurt rose, they joined hands and exited stage left. It was a short trek to his guest coach tutor suite and a night of looming ecstasy and rapture.
Having watched Kurt strip his redheaded daughter and lead her off to what he assumed would be a long vigorous fuck-fest, the temporarily unpaired James was next in line. He took the stage and selected a co-ed's name from the bin. Ms. Smith called out 'Lyndsey'. The blonde extracted her lithe body from her daddy's petting hands, smooched goodbye and pranced on stage.
